Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1887-03-17
7sKIRNIIsH WITH CossACKs.

strength of the enemy there, Three
regiments of Cossacks made up the
force, and we marched all day and
part of the night before we came in
the vicinity of the enemy. On the
morning of the second day it was re-
ported that considerable detachment
of Turkish irregulars was encamped a
short distance in front of us. We had
been moving during the night with as
little noise as possible, and had biz
vouacked in the rain without building
fire, in order to give no notice of our
approach to the enemy's pickets. 1t
was only just daybreak when the
orders to march were given, and the
column proceeded cautiously with
few scouts in advance. In half-hour
or so we who were riding little ahead
of the column could see the character
istic conical Turkish tents assembled
in a little valley a short distance be-
yond. At the same instant our scouts
engaged the enemy's pickets, and the
column halted. The camp in sight
was evidently only a large outpost, and
the general immediately gave orders
for one regiment to form and charge
through the camp. We could see the
men of the designated regiment un-
cover and cross themselves, and in n
moment the head of the detachment
was rapidly moving past us. Among
the officers rode the major, my old
friend of the Dobrudscha, who, un-
known to me. had been promoted to a
lieutenant-colonelcy and transferred
to another regiment. As he dashed
past he made gesture of recognition
and waved his hand for me to follow.
| believe it was more the horses fault
than my own, for certainly never had
a deliberate intention of riding in a
charge if | could help it, but before |
knew it was atthe majors side. Of
we went at trQt, changing our forma-
ton to regimental front. Then, in an
irregular line, much broken by the in
equalities of the ground, we swept
down the slope at u gallop. There
was some firing. and a few Cossacks
fell, but l doubt if anybody heard
shot. The thunder of the hoofs, the
shaking of the grain-baSs, the rafting
of the cooking utensils, and the re-
sounding whacks of the nagajkas filled
the air with multitude of noises
which drowned all Other sounds. The
preme. Horses as well as mon felt its
unique stimulus, and we rushed
through that camp, sweeping it away
as the sudden cloud-burst in the Rockies
tears out the bed of the arroyo. 1t
was one of those rare moments of life
when all sense eofindividuality is merged
in that utterly overwhelming feeling of
exaltation, in that intoxication of
magnetism, which often possesses
large masses of men moved by some
grand and simultaneous impulse. 1t
was, perhaps, after all, very trivial
affair from military point of view,
but the sensation / experienced was
by no means insignificant or easily for
gotten.
Part of the Turkish force took to
flight in time and escaped; those who
remained to defend their camp were
sabred, spitted like fowl on the lances,
or captured and led back to the main
column at the end of lariat. The
finale of this little incident was fully
as impressive as the charge itself. al
though in quite another way. After
we made camp that night the men of
the regiment which had engaged the
enemy were drawn up in line with un-
covered heads and sang religious
hymn in chorus. How different now
were those faces which few hours be-
fore had been distorted with tho cruel
expressions of hatred OF the infidcl, or
glorificd by the excitement of tho
charge or with the consciousness of
victory! Uniforms apart, the men
looked like a raijk of devout. peaceful
farmers, bronzed hy the sun in the
fields. and beglimcd with the dust Of
agriculture. The hymn rolled forth in
quaint, sad cadences tuned to a minor
key, like most of the native melodies.
Along the ranks a gap purposely left
here and there showed where conf
rade had stood the day before. Al
though | could not catch the words
they sang. the significance Of the hymn
could not be mistaken. Many rough
hands brushed fearful cyess before tho
last mournful note died away. and the
regiment then dispersed about the
camp with quiet step, as if the least
noise were an insult to the memory of
the dead.-F. D. lfilics. IN Hdrper's
Magazine.